


Breakaway

by squidnie



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Set after The Other Side, The emotional breakdown we all deserve, can you blame me though?, plus a little bit of Bellarke optimism, typical Bellarke cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidnie/pseuds/squidnie
Summary: She pulled a gun on him, but ultimately she decided to let him go. Bellamy and Clarke have the discussion they needed to have.





	Breakaway

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hopeless, honestly. This is unbeta'd. Enjoy.

To say that the bunker is chaotic would be the biggest understatement Bellamy has heard in his life. Once the hundred are chosen from each clan there are fights that break out, injuries and deaths and hatred and Bellamy is just done. He’s done with dealing with death, with clan traditions and old grudges. He’s been on his feet for days, it feels like, and he’s just tired.

He knows that if he feels this way, though, it must be ten times worse for Clarke. She’s been in the infirmary dealing with injuries along with the politics that came with them. So he goes to find her, planning to talk her into taking a break or faking an injury of his own to get her away from other people for a bit.

It turns out he doesn’t have to be quite to drastic, as she comes easily with him when he suggests a break. They walk in silence to his single room where he has a plate of bread and a glass of water waiting for her.

Clarke sits at the foot of the bed, taking a bite of the bread. “Trikru thinks they deserve more beds,” she begins. “Of course, so does Skaikru, since Octavia won the conclave. Octavia’s not taking shit, though. You should be proud. She –”

“Clarke.” Bellamy cuts her off, shaking his head. “Just take a break, okay? Give yourself ten minutes not to deal with any of that.”

Clarke stares at him like he’s grown two heads, but surprises Bellamy by letting the conversation drop. He watches her, trying not to be obvious about it, as she eats and drinks the full glass of water. It’s not much, but it’s a start. It eases the worry gripping Bellamy’s chest, if only slightly.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, surprising Bellamy with the question.

He studies her face for a moment before replying. “What do you mean?”

“I held a gun to you,” Clarke says. Her voice is low, the disgust evident in her tone.

“I held you over a pit of spikes,” Bellamy responds immediately.

“Yeah,” she begins wildly, “but that was –”

“I know.” He cuts her off, easy. His gaze is steady on hers, but she breaks eye contact quickly.

They fall into silence for a long while after that. Bellamy thinks that Clarke has probably gone into war strategy mode again. She’s the first to break the silence, though, and not in the way that Bellamy expected. “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”

“Mildly,” Bellamy agrees, and Clarke laughs. It’s a freeing sound that surprises them both. Bellamy can’t help but chuckle in response to the bubbly sound coming from the girl next to him.

But then the tears falling from her eyes aren’t from joy anymore, and Clarke’s shoulders shake with sobs that rip through her whole body. Bellamy is thrown by the sudden one-eighty, but in a way he understands. He gets it. Clarke leans into him and he pulls her close, shielding her from the harsh lights in the room as she cries.

His heart twists in his chest. Clarke is an eighteen-year-old woman who holds the world on her shoulders. She makes life-or-death decisions daily and adults twice her age look to her for guidance. Still, somehow, Bellamy has never seen her fall apart quite like this.

He’s shaken from his thoughts when he realizes that she’s speaking. The words are muffled against his jacket but after a moment he hears that Clarke is just repeated the same thing, over and over and over. “I’m so sorry.”

And Bellamy doesn’t even know where to start with her. It hurts – god, it hurts – that she’s been through so much and he can’t take the pain from her. They all have, though, and he logically knows that they each have to deal with their own demons. Still, holding Clarke reminds Bellamy of everything that she has done to save their people. She’s done so much to carry the burden for them. All he wants to do is take some of that away from her.

“You were doing what you thought you had to do.” Clarke only sobs harder. Bellamy feels tears sting at his own eyes, but he continues. “That’s what you’ve always one, Clarke. And that’s not a bad thing.” It’s clear that they aren’t always on the same side of things, but as much as he could be mad and feel hurt or betrayed by her actions the bottom line is that she did what she thought she had to do. Same as him. Same as everyone else.

“The things I’ve done, Bellamy –”

“The things _we_ have done, Clarke.” Bellamy knows that he’s almost pleading with her. He just needs her to understand. “You aren’t alone. You don’t have to do this alone.” Finally, she looks at him. Her blue eyes are wide, tinged red from her tears. So Bellamy whispers, “You aren’t alone.”

“How are you okay with this?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy doesn’t have a good answer for her. He doesn’t know how to make her feel better and it feels like a physical knife in his gut. “I’m not,” he tells her, “I struggle with it every day. But Clarke – everyone has done hard things. Bad things. The faces that I’ve seen as I –” He takes a deep, steadying breath. “I did what I did because I thought I was saving our people. And I have to live with that. But I don’t have to live with it alone and neither do you.”

Clarke just looks at him, stares at him as if she could read his mind if she concentrates hard enough. Bellamy thinks she must be content with what she finds there, because in the next moment her arms are around him. She hugs him so tightly that he can feel her body shake against his.

And Bellamy hugs her in return, crushing her to him. They stay like that for a long time, locked together as if afraid they’d fall apart if they let go. Maybe they would. Bellamy feels fractures, broken, and maybe Clarke is the one keeping him in one piece. She’s always been his person. She’s always the one that keeps him centered and reminds him of what he’s fighting for when he really just wants to give up.

“I love you.” Clarke’s voice is barely discernible with the way she speaks into the crook of his neck, but it’s strong and full of conviction. She’s not lying. She’s not just saying empty words.

“I love you.” And Bellamy’s reply comes easy, like he’s said it a million times. He almost has. The words have been on the tip of his tongue a few times but he always held back. Maybe he was waiting for Clarke to say it first, to take the first step. Maybe he needed her to be ready to hear the words from him.

He feels Clarke’s lips on his neck. It’s a soft brush, a reminder that she’s there or a thank you, Bellamy doesn’t know. He appreciates it, though, the small sign of affection that sort of makes him feel like his fingertips are burning.

“What are we going to do?” Clarke whispers.

“What we always do,” Bellamy replies, “we’ll get through it.”

“Together,” she says.

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees, “together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Scream with me about Bellarke on Tumblr @ nomsyy


End file.
